Siren's Song
by Thorned Rose
Summary: Following a rare success, Musashi and Kojiro go out drinking to celebrate. Nothing turns out as they want, and a severely poor call on Kojiro's part changes their lives forever. Rocketshippy oneshot, please review after you've read


He could not help staring at the sweat glistening on her chest, her faced scrunched up with concentration as she touched him tenderly, afraid of hurting him. A barely audible grunt escaped her lips periodically, whereas he feared to breathe lest he make the scene more…difficult…than it already was. He had never once expected this to happen, and certainly not the way it had. He was inwardly screaming he loved her, but he could not speak those words in case they were not what she wished to hear, and in their current situation, annoying her was not a feasible option. As it was, he was afraid she could hear his inner thoughts; their pitch deafened him. She looked deep into his eyes and released his name in a husky breath, sending another shiver down his spine. That one action, more than any other, made him realise that she was indeed his soul-mate, and how grateful he suddenly felt that it was just her with him, not someone he didn't know. The soft touch of her skin made everything else seem meaningless, and although he felt ridiculous even thinking it, he believed this was certainly the highlight of his young life.

Two hours previously…

After what could only seem like most of their lifetimes, the Roketto Dan team most associated with failure finally laid claim to a successful mission. Nyasu left for a night's hunting hours beforehand, knowing all to well to steer clear of his partners when a lot of alcohol was likely to be consumed. He had feared right; they were both racking up tabs that should cover about double of what they'd respectively earned. And, as usual, they did it in the same tavern, but at opposite ends. Neither knew why this came about, but it was a somewhat solid tradition. At least this way they both had a chance of going home with someone, but with an option for help out of it if they changed their minds. Too many people assumed they were a couple, and it stalled their own gain to an unbearable extent at times.

Tonight, Kojiro was in the blackest of moods. He should be happy that he was no longer as pathetic as he'd felt the night before, but now all he could look forward to seeing what the bottom of his next double shot of whisky looked like. He'd discovered such views of twenty glasses thus far, and he resented his body only feeling partially tipsy at best. The extensive smoke clouding the air irritated his eyes and his breathing felt harder as a result of the fumes. It made him feel more wretched somehow, though why it was so was beyond him. He mused over whether he was really here to enjoy drinking harsh liquids, or if he felt obliged to step in whenever Musashi got herself into another tryst she didn't really want. He resented focusing on her promiscuousness rather than working on his own; she never noticed that he scoped out her choices very closely before she left with anyone. Or, if she did, she was exceedingly ungrateful.

A young svelte blonde touched his arm and flirted with him without a pause, but he did not care enough to learn her name. She was undeniably pretty, but far too skinny and youthful in appearance for his standards, though truthfully it was not that which made him so offhand. He could not take his eyes off his partner until he knew she would be safe, and he could not risk lowering his guard to put her life at risk. Even if he wanted her to suffer for never being thankful, for assuming he'd be there no matter what. He was not a plaything she could abandon at will. He swallowed the remainder of his drink, and was pleasantly surprised to see the blonde he'd written off had just ordered him another three. He decided to at least talk to her as he was not an outright insensitive person, but he felt it cruel to engage in conversation when she was repelling any interest someone he might actually like was willing to offer.

Kojiro glared daggers into the back of Musashi's head, hearing her false laughter echoing over the din of the busy room. He wasn't sure what he said to the blonde, but kept his hand on her lower back to hopefully quieten her with her youthful desires; she couldn't have been more than sixteen at the most. That action could be taken as possessive, but he just wanted Musashi to see he was not completely undesirable should she bother turning her head back once to see if his situation was in need of her help like the agreement stated. Instead, he hated seeing the strap halfway down her shoulder, knowing she could fix it at any point but using it as a ploy to gain the man's undivided lust. He drained the glass of its contents in one motion, not noticing the sting on his throat or how it affected his head more than usual. He allowed the young woman to nibble playfully along his neck, enjoying the touch of a female's anatomy anywhere on him. Part of him wished he didn't have morals; venting his frustration on this girl would be all too easy, but he could never live with himself should he proceed.

He reached for another glass and noticed in astonishment he'd drunk all of them without conscious knowledge of it. His vision was darting a bit now, and he knew his hand was wandering slightly, another out of character trait. Kojiro had learnt from a very early age to respect women; remembering Rumika's whip still brought an involuntary wince and a shudder. Clearly the girl thought his body's vibrations were due to something else, as she moved in closer and ran her tongue along his earlobe, biting and sucking seductively. He knew he should push her back but by now the alcohol made him think it was a bad decision, since she was evidently more than willing for _anything_ to happen. From what he could fuzzily make out, Musashi was straddling a stranger's lap, leaving little to the imagination with her present outfit that made her uniform look extremely conservative.

Annoyed at her display of open brazen actions, he bit the nape of the girl's neck, feeling like he should do something to please one woman and hopefully irritate another, and scraped his fingernails lightly along the tender but sweaty skin that lay underneath her flimsy top. He felt the fevers of his high libido rush throughout his body, wanting something, anything, to happen right that second. He felt all of the years he'd failed to achieve full bed sports with a woman were wasted; Musashi was clearly not interested in him at all. And he doubted she'd been so ready to preserve her chastity from how he saw her readjusting her toy's hand further up her naked thigh. Hungrily taking in the blonde's scent, he thought of nothing but what he'd always wanted to achieve with his partner but now he accepted he never would. He didn't even care that he didn't remember her name if she gave it, all that mattered now was his passion. He extracted the money to pay for the drinks and slid them across the counter to the barman, not particularly aware of doing it, all that mattered was her. Lustfully, she pulled more than led him out of the bar, giggling as he stumbled a few times. He could never remember feeling this instable after alcohol before, and he had downed a LOT more in the past with less consumption time. His subconscious insisted it was the lack of glucose in his blood that should have stemmed the effect, but he duly ignored it, following his hormones for the first true time in his life.

Musashi promptly left her new acquaintance's lap and stumbled just as unsteadily out of the tavern as her partner had, ignoring the tab for someone else to pick up or to just add it to her list of criminal activities. She ran her palms furiously along her forearms to generate some heat; the temperature outside was vastly lower than when they entered the building hours earlier. She cursed as a car speeding by splashed her as it deliberately drove through the deep puddle near the pavement, and now the chill was near unbearable. Her teeth chattered violently as she glanced all around for her partner; normally she wouldn't mind what he did as it was his choice, but she'd seen how the alcohol had hit him and how it was something that never happened. She'd also seen the girl he'd been with and knew it was stupid for him to think it was a good idea. Where the hell could he have gone in those few moments? It was hardly a sizeable settlement they were in either, a glorified town at best.

She was contemplating returning to the warm haven of the tavern for some pleasurable company when she faintly heard his voice over the din of the traffic, and she was somewhat thankful she didn't hear the words. She had to force herself to proceed towards the origin of the sound; deeply afraid she'd get there too late and walk in on something she could not bear to see. She released an involuntary shudder from both the cold, wet top she wore, and the mental images that sprang to mind as she dwelt on the possibility of what she might find. She picked up her speed as a harsh wind grew, making her feel the chill of the night to a further extent, and she cursed herself for choosing to get involved in her partner's escapade. She made a mental note to punish him later for this discomfort.

Kojiro pressed the blonde against a wall in a quiet alley of her choosing, pawing hungrily at her body as his lust soared. He could not be certain if it was his amorous mood or the alcohol which made him feel so light-headed, but he was glad it distracted him from his nervousness. With a sudden athletic movement, she promptly had her legs entwined around his waist, pulling him closer as he supported her body weight. He ran his hand along her thigh as he kept her comfortable as best as his balance would allow, still uncertain what he should do that would satisfy both his morals and his needs. He knew he should know her name at least, but still was unconcerned to a degree by his ignorance. He jolted with shock when he heard his partner call his name, and did not care to notice the blonde had cracked her head off the wall with this action. He was far from pleased to see Musashi standing mere feet away from him, with his hand hidden underneath his young companion's relatively short skirt. When the shock wore off and her words took effect, he spat out his answer vituperatively.

"Don't call me Ko-chan, I am NOT a child. What are you doing here anyway; shouldn't you be off selling yourself some more, or are there no new highest bidders who haven't taken you for a test ride already?"

"At least I'm not slurring my words like a child, so I shall treat you like one. Get out of here, it's for your own good you ungrateful bastard."

"Oh, now why is that dearest Musashi_-sama_? Is it because I'm the only man you never chose to fuck and you want the spoils tonight because you haven't got anybody new?"

"You deserve better than a stupid kid that's why, and if it's what you really want let her have your brat before she's legal. Just don't come bitching to me when you're sober."

Musashi turned away and headed towards the end of the alley, knowing from his vicious glare that he wouldn't listen to anything she had to say. She felt hollow at his accusations, but felt much worse when she heard the last abuse he had to hurl at her.

"What, like your supposed great mother did? How old was she?"

Musashi stopped, considering her options, but decided against turning around to respond; he did not deserve to see the streams of tears that spilt from her sapphire eyes. Instead, she ran out of his hearing range before sobbing violently, ignoring the jarring pains in her ankles from running on cobblestones in heels. She had never once seen this unadulterated cruelness to his persona in all the years she knew him and could not understand why he should choose now to release it; he should be glad they were successful for once. She had also never seen him that intoxicated either, or for that matter, she had never seen him drunk at all. She mused that she had also never seen him in that position either, and he was probably just spiteful she wrecked his underage moment. She could not stand hearing his insult about her mother though, no matter the truth in it; despite her being gone for so many years now, her passing was no easier than it had been that first day. She had nowhere she particularly wanted to go either; she did not want male company at all after that outburst, and risking seeing Nyasu would be difficult as she didn't want to talk about it at all. Sighing, she waited where she was, feeling the cold more than before, but not really noticing it.

Kojiro resumed endowing his affections onto the nameless girl, biting her lips gently but completely accidentally, and he found himself unable to support her properly, as if all of his stamina was exhausted after his fight with Musashi. To be brutally honest, he remembered little of it other than her being there, and then not; what happened in between was a complete blur to him. He chose to ignore this fact, however, as that would no doubt hinder his progress. He pulled back momentarily to try and regain single vision, or at least double vision, and he felt something hard pressing him in the stomach. Taken-aback, he stared down and tried to focus in on what it was, and was shocked beyond belief by what lay in her hand. His instinct was to let go of his partner, but he did not have the strength to break free from their legs, which scared him as he was never known as a particularly weak person, at least not physically.

"Pity you didn't listed to the dumb slut; you should have left with dignity. I wouldn't try to move if I were you; not only should you be near passing out from the drugs I dumped in your drinks that you were too stupid to notice, but any faint pressure will set this trigger off. Now give me your money, bitch, or I shoot."

"I don't have anything left, you saw me spend it all, please don't…"

"Turn out your pockets. Do it NOW!"

She untangled her legs from around his waist and stood up straight before him, trying not to notice the deadened feelings in them from pinching nerves. She was almost reluctant to do this, as he was the most pleasing out of her victims thus far. But no matter, she had one of her so-called 'brats' and a drug habit to feed, and those were her top priorities in life, though not always in that order. She watched him fumbling awkwardly with his pockets but it had been just how he had said, there was nothing of value. The only attestation she had of him in the pub at all was a couple of bottle caps from the beers he'd begun the night drinking, before his dark mood had descended where he'd reached for eighty-proof. She noticed he was barely able to stand so she fired at point-blank range. He would probably not feel anything, and it stopped him reporting her to the police, unaware that he in fact was a criminal himself and would not have done that anyway, for shame of his choosing of a partner as much as anything.

The bottle caps fell from his fingers and crashed loudly as they hit the concrete ground beneath him, every time they bounced adding another deafening roar to his ears. Everything was suddenly moving at a far slower than normal pace and it seemed to take a lifetime for him to fall on his knees. In surprise, he moved his hand back and saw the bright crimson staining his fingers, in disbelief it could possibly have originated from his body. As his head collided with the cold, unforgiving surface, all he could do was look at the girl he'd arrived there with, with a piteous inquiring expression on his face. He tried to form a question so she could explain why she did it, but the only sounds to leave his mouth were almost inhuman moans and coughs. He stared at his hand again, unable to comprehend how he could see so much blood and feel nothing, only half-registering her speedy exit. He felt wet all over his back but was not sure if it was because the ground was wet or it originated from blood or sweat, or a combination of any of those possibilities. Physically he felt nothing. Emotionally, he felt cold and alone. All his memories flooded in at once, how he'd run away because he couldn't be what his parents needed of him, or how his life had consisted of one humiliating failure after another. It was only now his cruel words to Musashi echoed around his head, and he could not forgive himself for it. How had he possessed the ability to even think such things, never mind say and forget them? Tears gathered in his dull emerald eyes, but again he could not tell if it was from pain he caused his best friend, or from pain his body denied him the right to feel.

Musashi stirred from her musings at the sound of a gunshot somewhere in the vicinity, and looked around furtively to ensure there were no police rushing to the area yet, in case they recognised her from one of any number of wanted posters designated to her over the years. She did not wish to move from her spot yet; she was not ready to face the outside world until she had sealed away the dark memories once more. She clumsily wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, and with disgust noted the thick clumps of mascara that remained. She would do anything for a mirror to fix her appearance; she might not wish to have male company, but it didn't mean she had to be blatantly repulsive either.

Kojiro's actions made her truly consider sending Boss-san a request for a transfer for a new partner, and she prayed she could take Nyasu with her. She could not bear to lose another friend who knew so much—and yet so little—about what sort of a person she really was. Despite her partner's accusations, any time she had arrived back to her team mates—her second family—she had not been acting as promiscuously as they assumed. She had yet to know a man fully, and despised Kojiro's comments about that almost more than his insult to her late mother. She'd always bore a child-like desire for him to be the one to lead her into proper adulthood, yet he never showed her any interest in that manner. It had stung her heart knowing that if that child he wanted to seduce was his preference, it was nothing she could ever be. She wished him to pay severely for his nature; she hated him now more than she could have ever thought possible.

Her slithering dark envy vanished abruptly when she saw the said young woman running down the street at full speed, splattered in copious amounts of blood that was clearly not her own judging by the gun in her hand. Her heart stopped in her throat, and without realising it she was racing back to that ill-stained alley, praying he was alive. She could care less what whoever saw her thought about how she appeared then, and implored to the gods that if all else failed she could at least be arrested after seeing her partner. If he had to die, it could not be like this. She forbade it.

She felt a culmination of both relief and revulsion as she saw him. His skin was ghostly pale to its usual hue, and he was surrounded in a dark yet shining pool of his own blood, making the scene before her much more difficult to cope with. The uplifting point of the matter was his eyes followed her movements, albeit at a dulled pace, indicating she reached him in time. A thick sweat broke out all over her body from fear and with shaking fingers fumbled with her bag, looking for anything that would help her keep him alive. He tried to form her name but it only made her more distressed, so he chose to remain silent as best he could. She sat in his blood, unaware of how it stained her clothes through capillarity, and outstretched her right leg for Kojiro to use as a pillow of sorts in an attempt to keep his breathing passages free. She gave an involuntary shudder as she felt his sticky neck rest on her ankle, and tried to ignore his matted hair sticking to her fishnets. She pulled his shirt away from the wound, finding it too easily with the sizeable hole missing from the material. She carefully ran her fingers along his back, afraid of hurting him, and she felt with horror there was no exit wound.

Fishing a pair of tweezers out of her bag with great difficulty, Musashi tried to set them in her grip properly but she could not still her shaking fingers. She screwed her face up in concentration as she tried to find the bullet in the gushing blood. She jolted with shock as he touched her thigh, with an expression she had never seen on his face before. Although his thoughts were usually easily read when it came to being hungry, tired or some other meaningless action, she saw something in his look that made her heart stop. She said his name hoarsely, her throat parched with shock of that glance more than what she was doing. She shook herself fiercely and banished that look from her memory for the time being, now was NOT the time to sacrifice her inner desires. With surprising accuracy, she removed the bullet and tried not to concentrate on the gristle attached to it as she flung it and the tweezers far away from her.

Blushing furiously, she removed her skimpy top and pressed it down on her wound with as much pressure as she could muster; she did not want to hurt him. She was afraid she was not applying enough, but without any formal knowledge of what to do in this situation she was really of little use. She cursed neither of them having any form of telecommunications, and fervently wanted someone to have heard the sound and call for medical assistance. She felt highly underdressed and tried to ignore him rubbing her thigh gently. She could not cope with this, not now, and not with feeling his drying blood on his palm as he did it. She shivered as a cold wind hit the sweat on her exposed body and she edged closer to her partner. She heard him try to say something but she could not decipher it, and could not risk getting lost in his eyes again. They were too much like what she had always wanted to see when he looked at her, and she couldn't assume that he was genuine when she had to concentrate. It was hard enough that her hands still shook violently without making it more problematic than it had to be.

She shivered again, but for a different reason; Kojiro was trying to get her attention by pulling her fishnets back with his teeth and it had a pleasurable effect on Musashi. Against her wishes she locked her eyes with his and saw everything she'd ever wanted from him although they were not as bright as they usually were.

"Musa…"

"Don't try to talk dammit, just save your energy. Just promise me something first please."

"Wh…is…it?"

"Don't you EVER…"

Shrill sirens filled the still air hauntingly. Panic filled her heart, knowing that within moments she would know if he would live to offer her what he begged of her now. She could not stop the tears flowing down her face at seeing his face now, this she definitely could not cope with whilst her hormones were so frayed.

"…leave me."

Author's Notes:

Another one-shot out of the way I guess. Had no real plans for this except he'd be in a bar drinking with a bad mood, loosely based on ESB's Corner Booth Chronicles. With particular thanks to UraniumMaiden for helping me rework the intro where APPARENTLY it originally looked like she was giving childbirth though I didn't see it as such P Japanese names are used to give it a more sombre feel as much as I haven't done that before. Thank you for reading, and if you are going to leave without reviewing, well shame on you. I put a LOT of work into this so the least you could do is comment to make it somewhat more worthwhile. But if you don't not much I can do except maybe go on another two year hiatus shrug


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